


mind games.

by seekrest



Series: febuwhump 2020. [17]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, Delirium, Drugged Peter Parker, Hurt Peter Parker, May Parker (Spider-Man) & Tony Stark Coparenting Peter Parker, Poisoning, Protective May Parker (Spider-Man), Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:28:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22774144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seekrest/pseuds/seekrest
Summary: Peter can immediately tell something is wrong, his senses dialed up so wildly that he can’t focus on anything, barely feeling like he’s moving forward on the sidewalk as he tries to reach the Tower.Laughing. Yelling. Crying. Screaming. Talking. It all mixes together in an awful cacophony of sounds, so loud that he’s convinced that his ears are bleeding as he walks forward.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: febuwhump 2020. [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1619581
Comments: 23
Kudos: 241
Collections: Irondad Fic Exchange 2019





	mind games.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [itsreallylaterightnow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsreallylaterightnow/gifts).



> Hi itsreallylaterightnow! I’m your pinch hit for the Irondad Fic Exchange!! Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Prompt:
> 
> Peter gets poisoned and as he tries to make it to Tony he gets too sick. Tony finds Pete and tries to find a cure to the poison. As he works Peter is scared of dying as he slowly gets worse.

Peter can immediately tell something is wrong, his senses dialed up so wildly that he can’t focus on anything, barely feeling like he’s moving forward on the sidewalk as he tries to reach the Tower. 

His whole body is aching, shivering uncontrollably as he moves one foot in front of the other, the sounds of the city being just as magnified as every pained step is as he winces. 

Peter can hear everything - everything feeling exactly like it did in the same few weeks after the bite, like he was still trying to adjust to the world around him even if it had been over two years since that fateful trip to Oscorp.

Laughing. Yelling. Crying. Screaming. Talking. It all mixes together in an awful cacophony of sounds, so loud that he’s convinced that his ears are bleeding as he walks forward.

Yet the sounds don’t even compare to the things he’s seeing, the whole world tilting in and out of focus - colors looking more bright and vivid than he’s ever seen before, reminding of what it had been like when Dorothy had first landed in Oz. 

Peter blinks a few times, watching as the streetlights starts to warp right in front of his eyes - tilting so sharply to the right until he realizes that the light isn’t tilting, it’s him - righting himself back up before he falls flat on his face. 

There’s a part of Peter that knows that something is wrong, knows that he should ask for help but he can’t bring himself to move - shuffling his way out of the busy street and towards the alley way, pressing a hand against the faded brick as he tries to steady himself.

Peter walks forward a few steps before his knees buckle, the sounds of the city overwhelming him so much that he feels like he wants to vomit, braced on his hands and knees as he lets the wave of nausea roll over him.

Nothing comes up, Peter just blinking back down at the dirty ground in front of him - each blink feeling more and more difficult, his hands shaking as he tries to shift himself back into standing.

It’s immediately a mistake, Peter meeting the ground fast - and _hard_ \- the concrete feeling cool against his cheek. 

It’s then that he realizes how hot he is, simultaneously hot and cold as he shivers closing his eyes for a second before shooting them back open - distantly remembering that he has to get to the Tower. 

_Get to the Tower. Get to the Tower_. 

Peter knows he has to, knows that he should call for help - that sense of urgency pressing down on him as he gasps, lifting himself up as his arms shake. 

His legs, his body, his arms - everything feels like lead, exactly how it felt to lift the parking garage off of him - the nausea coming back in full force before he lets himself fall back on to his stomach.

But Peter has to move, he knows this - choosing instead to crawl further into the alley, distantly recognizing as his mind starts to feel like the static of the old television he, Ben and May used to have that he’s going in the wrong direction. 

The low buzzing in the back of his mind grows louder and louder as he crawls, shivering and sweating until Peter has to stop - wheezing as he tries to catch his breath, the pressure he feels on his chest feeling like he’s suffocating.

There’s darkness enclosing around his vision, his breaths getting shorter and more erratic when he tries to shift himself to his side, the sharp rush of pain spiking in his legs and his arms as he does so but doing so on instinct - completely borne from needing to breathe. 

Peter’s on his back before he can stop the momentum, the wind feeling like it’s knocked out of him for a second before there’s a small relief - the pain that he felt shooting all throughout his arms and legs growing sharper from the change in position as he shivers. 

_This is wrong. Something is wrong._ Peter thinks, his chest heaving more and more as he tries to focus on something - tries to focus on anything rather than the feeling of his body feeling like it was going to turn itself inside out.

_Get to the Tower. Get to the Tower._

It’s the last thing Peter thinks before he slips into unconsciousness. 

* * *

  
“Where’s your phone?” 

Tony glances up from his position in the kitchen, furrowing his eyebrows as Pepper moves the pillows around on their couch, glancing back down to the pie mix he’s working on.

“And why, pray tell, do you need it?”

Pepper sighs, Tony smirking down at the pie mixture as she says, “I’m deleting that words app on your phone. You,” Tony looks up, seeing her playfully point a finger towards him, “are entirely too competitive.”

Tony scoffs as he continues to mix the contents of the bowl in front of him. “Did Happy complain to you again? Come on Pep, it’s good for his mental stamina. Keeps him on his toes.”

“That’s not the point, Tony. Don’t antagonize him.” She says, finally finding his phone wedged in between a cushion only for her to frown, pausing for a second when he asks, “What’s going on?”

Pepper tilts her head, more confused than Tony thinks he’s ever seen her when she walks around the couch and towards him saying, “You’ve been getting several calls from May that—“

She stops, eyes widening again before answering it - a low thrum of something Tony can’t place churning in his gut when she says, “Hello?”

The way Pepper’s expression changes immediately puts Tony on edge, knowing that if May was calling him that it wasn’t good - wondering now why FRIDAY hadn’t alerted him that anything was wrong.

He sets the whisk he’s using down and walks around the counter - moving towards Pepper when she says, “No we haven’t heard from him.”

Tony doesn’t have any kind of superpowers aside from an endless bank account and an IQ worth envying but he didn’t need either of those to know immediately that something was wrong.

That something had happened to Peter.

* * *

Peter lazily blinks at the sky above him, frowning as it continues to change shape and color in a way that only furthers his dizziness.

 _Get to…_ Peter’s mind trails off, closing his eyes only for the kaleidoscope of colors to be even brighter when he does so - no sense of relief in the action as he winces in pain.

It’s all pain - everywhere, his entire body feeling like he’s been zapped by lightning, been run over by a truck, kicked around and flown through the air all at once.

He’s shivering but Peter can feel the way his shirt clings to him, sweat dripping down his forehead as he tries to decide whether having his eyes open or closed was a better solution.

His vision continues to warp as his head seemingly moves back and forth, a familiar face immediately in his line of sight as he blinks.

It looks so much like Iron Man, Peter blinking at him and wondering when his action figures had gone to life - only for the face’s mouth to move, feeling himself being poked and prodded as Peter shakes his head.

_No. No. No._

Peter has to go... somewhere. He has to leave. He had to be somewhere. 

He swings a hand out but it’s stopped, frowning at his momentum being cut off only for his head to swim again when he tries to focus on it - dark spots in his vision appearing out of nowhere.

There’s a loud ringing in his ears, a voice in the distance that’s yelling… something. What, Peter doesn’t know - the colors and the sounds are swirling around together as the nausea returns.

For a brief second everything feels still - and then it’s as if the world erupts, hot and bright lightning up and down as spine as his head snaps backwards, pushing himself further into the ground as hands continue to grab at him - the uncontrollable need to scream building in the back of his throat even if Peter can’t hear a thing.

The pain blocks out everything, a sharp rush of fear coursing through him for a split second.

And then nothing.

* * *

Tony’s knee is bobbing up and down incessantly, staring at Peter laying there in front of him - eerily still as the machines beeping in the background almost mock him, the tube down his throat looking grotesque for how silent it made Peter.

It’s been hours and Cho knows nothing - no clear picture of what happened to him, no footage to speak of that FRIDAY had found for how Peter had found himself drugged and moments away from cardiac failure, no answers for what drug was still coursing through his veins.

For all his smarts and knowledge, Tony wasn’t a medical doctor. But he knew enough from Cho’s careful expression and from his own brushes with death that whatever it is, whatever was inside of him - was killing him.

And Tony had no idea how to stop it.

Tony’s legs continued to bounce, fidgeting with his hands before he took his phone out again - distantly wondering how the hell May wasn’t panicking when all Tony’s mind could supply were his worst nightmares.

She’d stepped out only to use the restroom and yet Tony immediately feels overwhelmed with anxiety without her calming presence - seconds away from calling Pepper to come down to join him as he sat vigil in Peter’s room only for Peter’s hand to twitch, Tony immediately sitting up straight.

He stands, rushing forward as Peter’s hand continues to move - taking it immediately as he kneels down.

“Hey kid, you still with me?” Tony asks, knowing it was a fool’s errand considering what the kid was likely experiencing from whatever drugs were in his system yet hoping all the same that Peter could hear him.

By some miracle he does, his hand twitching before squeezing it again - Tony overwhelmed with joy only for his eyes to flutter, watching as Peter desperately tries to open them only to be seemingly unable to.

Tony can hear Peter’s heart start to race, the beeping of the heart monitor increasing slightly seemingly at the realization that he has a tube down his throat. 

“Don’t move too much, Pete. It’s okay, it’s just helping you breathe.” Tony says, hoping his voice is calm even if he doesn’t feel it. “You’re in the medbay, May and I are right here with you. Everything’s gonna be okay.” He lies, hoping that his voice is steady enough to convey the kind of calm May had not even moments ago.

Peter’s hand squeezes his again, before his finger twitches - tapping against his palm, softer than with a little more pressure - Tony frowning down at it for a second when he begins to recognize a rhythm to it.

It hits him halfway that Peter’s trying to communicate with him, catching the tail end of his Morse code message.

W R O N G

Tony grips his hand tighter, nodding before immediately saying, “We’re not sure what’s wrong yet kid, but don’t worry. We’re— we’re gonna figure this out.”

Peter’s hand starts furiously tapping, Tony’s heart dropping at his reply.

H U R T S

“I know it hurts, kid. But just hold on okay? You gotta hold on while we figure out what’s happening.”

Tony watches as Peter finger seems to hesitate, dreading whatever he has to say next only for his heart to break at his next word.

S C A R E D

Tony swallows down his own fear, leaning forward as he says, “You’re gonna be okay, Pete. We’re gonna fix this. May and I, we’re gonna be right here. Cho’s working nonstop to find out what’s going on with you but I promise you, Pete—“

Tony’s voice cuts off - knowing he’s promising something he can’t give with any kind of certainty but feeling compelled to do it anyway.

“You’re gonna be okay.”

* * *

Peter’s not sure how much time has passed - if any time has passed at all. 

He vaguely remembers waking up, the panicked and choking feeling from having a tube shoved down his throat only mildly abated by Tony’s soft words beside him, whispering encouragement that Peter could immediately tell was a lie but held on to them anyway.

When May had come back into the room, Peter could feel himself start to relax again - the cooling sensation of more medication lulling him back to a sleep that Peter hadn’t woken up from in… he wasn’t sure how long.

Awake, sleeping - Peter felt outside of time, outside of his own body. It felt so similarly to how he felt on the street, but without pain - recognizing that he was safe, surrounded by people and yet being unable to communicate with them anymore, the loss of his mobility being lost to whatever was flowing through his system. 

When he finally begins to wake up, if it’s even waking up - Peter’s not sure anymore, his throat feels like he’s swallowed glass - his head feeling heavy and his eyelids working against him as he tries to open them, only to feel familiar hands brushing the hair across forehead away.

“You’re okay, kiddo. Tony and I are right here.” He can hear May’s voice, trying to turn his head towards her only to be unable to - hoping that his body is working with him to tell them that he’s there, that he hears them - even if he can feel the pull to slip back into unconsciousness so strong that it’s taking all his energy to stay in the moment. 

“He keeps doing this.” He can hear Tony whisper, hearing May’s hum in the background - his weak grasp on reality already fading. “He’s hurting, May and we keep--”

“You saw the scans yourself, Tony.” May’s voice sounds watery, distant as Peter begins to drift - the soothing hand motions of her running her fingers through his hair lulling back into the deep. “He’s in there, he’s still with us.”

If Tony responds, Peter doesn’t hear it - letting himself fall back into the darkness, content with the knowledge that even if he wasn’t sure what was wrong anymore, wasn’t even sure what was happening - that he could take some comfort that he was safe. 


End file.
